


Dreggon Baby!!

by HapSky



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dragons, Fluff and Humor, Gen, One Big Happy Family, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slice of Life, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-01-15 14:57:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18501331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HapSky/pseuds/HapSky
Summary: Prompto finds the neighbouring kingdom’s prince in a meadow. Noctis finds a dragon’s egg and wants to hatch it. Ignis is not convinced this is more than just a big stone....but then it does hatch.





	1. The Begginning

It’s a nice afternoon, Noctis thinks. The sky is of a light blue, soft looking clouds are sprinkled in here and there. The breeze is mellow and carries the scent of wildflowers and grass. The meadow makes for a good spot to take a nap.

It’s a nice afternoon, Prompto thinks as well. The light is falling low, but isn’t disturbing in his photographs for once. The air is fresh, and even though he has been outside taking pictures since the early morning, he feels energized. Maybe he can snatch some good nature shots, the meadow over there sure would make for a nice scenery.

It’s a nice afternoon, Ignis thinks at last. He relaxes in his armchair, perched in his garden with its back to the house and facing the wide meadow that lies behind it. The late spring’s atmosphere is soothing his nerves and freeing his shoulders from the tenseness a day of completing household chores brings with it. The smell of freshly brewed coffee draws a content little smile on his lips.

“The fuck?!” Noctis yells as he nearly cracks his skull open when turning in his slumber, his head falling down the few centimeters of a little hole in the ground, only to hit a rock nestled in there.

“AAHH!!” Prompto screams startled by the yelling just a few meters away. He stumbles in his desperate attempt to not let his camera drop and topples onto a man lying hidden away between cornflowers, red poppy and long mild grass.

“I would rather not,” Ignis whispers to himself, having heard the commotion. He gets up nevertheless.

“Dude,” Prompto addresses the foreign man. He is clad in what could be black formal attire, if it were not for all the grass stains and dirt smudges. Or missing buttons and ripped seams. The man looks at Prompto, blue eyes wide with excitement.

“It’s a dragon egg!” He gasps and sits up, kneeling next to Prompto, pointing at the stone in the ground. Prompto narrows his eyes at the other.

“Nah, man. I think you just hit your head on a rock?” Prompto looks at said rock and snaps a picture. “A pretty rock, though.”

Noctis glares at the other boy. “It’s mine, I found it,” he declares.

Prompto laughs. “Yeah, sure. Whatever you say.” He watches as gloved hands carefully cradle the stone. “Ain’t gonna break, y’know.”

Noctis shoots him another glare and Prompto shrugs in defense. If that rock is important to him, then why not treat it as such? Prompto only ever treats his camera with the utmost care, as well. To each their own, right?

“Prompto, darling,” Ignis sighs with his ‘what did you do now’ voice, startling the other two to whip their heads around. Ignis still has his coffee mug in hand, the top button on his dress shirt is undone, his hair slightly loose. His eyes are soft, yet tired. They had disturbed his afternoon break, Prompto thinks.

“I found a dragon egg,” Noctis tells him.

“I found… uhm…?” Prompto says with a questioning look towards Noctis.

“Noctis,” he mumbles and holds the stone a little tighter.

“I found Noctis,” Prompto continues. “He hit his head while sleeping.”

Ignis levels Noctis with a calculating gaze. “Sleeping–here?” Noctis nods. “There are better places to rest than on the ground,” Ignis informs them and with a nod towards the small house, he turns around.


	2. Breggfast with Prompto

Noctis reluctantly wakes up. The bed he lies in is soft and warm, the blankets and pillows are oh so fluffy. Sure, the smell of the detergent used on the bedding is foreign, yet not unpleasant. The room he finds himself in is a stranger’s, but Noctis can see it belongs to a very tidy stranger, so he doesn’t mind cluttering it up a bit for the other. A little chaos here and there never hurt.

Noctis reluctantly gets up. The bed is still whispering sweetly to lull him back into its heavenly embrace, but he mumbles gruff nothings of discomfort back. It may be as good a bed as it wants to be, it still can’t feed him. A tragedy, that. Truly a tragedy.

So Noctis gets up. Slowly. He finds new clothes to dress in–probably formerly belonging to the same person as the room he occupies now. He nods a quick thanks to this mysterious yet generous person, just in case. He doesn’t want to seem ungrateful. It has been a while since his last proper rest, since the last time his back didn’t yell obscenities at him upon moving. He dresses, and finds a small note tucked between the garment.

 

_ Noctis, _

_ I hope you slept well. Feel free to use this room as you please for as long as you are recovering. I instructed Prompto to take a look at your head whenever you rise. There are leftovers in the fridge, please eat. Your stone is in the basket. _

_ Ignis _

 

Ignis seems to be a simple man, Noctis thinks. He had shooed him to shower the day before, bandaged his head and had sent him to sleep in the early hours of the evening. A simple man, or he just doesn’t know how to handle an injured foreigner that had stumbled upon his meadow one fine afternoon. Either way, Noctis likes Ignis’ way of handling the situation. No endless questioning followed by long discussions that ultimately resulted in Noctis decidedly not comfy and fed in a warm bed.

He checks his “stone in the basket” sitting on a chair next to the desk he had found the clothes and the note on, and is pleased that he finds his dragon egg safe and sound nestled in a blanket. He can do without the offending shopping basket used to offer a secure spot for the egg, though. He takes the egg and blanket and tucks them in his arms.

Happy with himself and the world once more, he makes his way through the small house towards the smell of food and the noises of someone cooking it. He is happy, but still hungry. He locates the kitchen in his one-track-minded mission fairly fast.

“Mornin’,” he huffs a sleep addled greeting.

“Morning!” Prompto replies with all the motivated energy Noctis is currently lacking. It’s okay though, Noctis thinks. If Prompto has the energy for two, that makes the right amount in total if he just slumps down in a kitchen chair and hugs his egg, right?

“Food?” Noctis asks.

“Just a sec,” Prompto laughs and keeps bustling around the counter, stirring things, flipping other things, and somewhere between his cooking he finds the time to hand Noctis a glass of water.

Watching Prompto with his head resting on his egg clutched tight to his chest, Noctis feels the atmosphere calm down from an excited buzzing to a more homey feeling. The kitchen is the most lived in out of the entire house. Potted herbs fill in the space on the windowsill, dried herbs and spices fill wooden cabinets and racks. Late noon sunshine falls through clean glass onto a big oak table, highlighting a few crumbs. Printed photographs adorne almost every surface one can stick photographs on–but without being oppressive. They are everywhere, but there aren’t many in total. Just a reminder of gone moments and past smiles. The rest of the space is given to handwritten recipes and tiny sticky notes.

Breakfast with Prompto is fun–the cosy, unhurried kind of fun–even if it’s actually Prompto’s lunch. The food tastes good, but Prompto claims there isn’t much to fuck up when preparing rice and sweet omelette. The coffee is not bitter, but full of aroma. Prepared by Ignis this morning and only reheated by himself, Prompto admits, because apparently there are many things to fuck up when making coffee.

“How’s your wound?” Prompto asks when their bellies are full, their coffee mugs half empty, and the egg back in Noctis’ arms after it had to be set down for eating purposes.

“Doesn’t hurt, doesn’t bleed.”

“Any signs of dizziness or nausea?”

Noctis shakes his head. “Nah. Just feel kinda lazy and sleepy,” he says and yawns.

Prompto nods at that. “Side effect of the painkillers Iggy gave you. You can go back to sleep if you want? I’ll wake you up for dinner,” Prompto tells him with a wink.

Noctis brightens up and smiles wide at him, and after downing the last remnants of now cold coffee and muttering hastily spoken but sincere words of gratitude, he takes his egg and cuddles back into bed with it. This is nice, he thinks while drifting off to dreams. Really nice.


	3. What the Egg

Ignis is not a simple man. Notis frowns and crouches down in front of the closed bedroom door. Ignis may be a practical man, but not simple. Far from it, apparently. It was nice while it lasted, at least, Noctis thinks. He allows himself a tiny sigh, then strains his ears to catch the hushed conversation outside again.

“Are you absolutely  _ sure  _ Noctis is a prince?” Prompto asks. “ _ The _ Prince of Lucis?”

“Yes, Prompto. I am absolutely sure.”

“And you can’t tell me why or how you know this because you can’t tell me anything about your job,” Noctis hears Prompto say in an exasperated and tired tone. It’s not the first time they’re having this discussion, it seems.

“No, darling.” Ignis’ voice is soft. He doesn’t say it out loud, but Noctis can hear the unspoken ‘I’m sorry’ loud and clear. “I’m working for the government, and me revealing anything more than that would be me revealing classified information.”

Silence stretches. Then Prompto relents. “I know Iggy. It’s just… And I trust you! Don’t get me wrong. I’m just… It’s not about him being a prince–wait no it’s exactly about that, but…” He pauses, and the faint noises of Prompto’s pacing up and down return.

“All I’m saying is: we don’t know why he’s here? We haven’t even talked properly. Kicking him out just like that feels wrong.”

Bless Prompto’s golden heart, Noctis thinks with a sad smile. He’s too good for this world.

“You’re too good for this world,” Ignis shares Noctis thoughts.

“No, I’m just saying!” Prompto stops his pacing around, his voice sounds like he is flustered, embarrassed even. “I‘m just saying it doesn’t seem fair. You didn’t kick me out without at least hearing my side of the story.”

Ignis laughs quietly. “Indeed, I did not, and look where it has led us.” There’s an amused smile resonating in his tone now. “I kept you. Do you want us to keep him, too?”

The silence lasts longer this time. It gives Noctis the chance to listen to his own thoughts. No one had considered letting him stay any longer than a night during his journey, so far. Noctis had stopped considering anything more as an option at some point way back. If given the chance, would he want to stay?

“Why not?” Prompto whispers just barely loud enough for Noctis to hear. A small huff escapes his lips at that.

“Then let us ask him if he’d retell his tale for us over dinner, my dear. I must admit, I’m very interested in hearing just where his fascination for this stone comes from.”

Noctis’ laugh is heartfelt yet short lived. But it’s too late to try and hide, it has given his eavespicking away. So he stands, takes his egg in his arms and while opening the door tells Ignis, with a stubborn grumble in his voice and a pout on his lips, “It’s a dragon egg, still.”

Ignis smiles at him as if he bit in a lemon. Whether it’s because Noctis has listened in, or because Noctis insists on his egg being an egg, Noctis can’t tell. “Whatever you say, Your Highness.”

Noctis blinks, taken aback. He hasn’t heard those words in quite a while. It makes him grin at how unfitting they sound in his ears. “Just Noct is fine,” he tells them with a shake of his head and makes his way into the kitchen.

Ignis is, indeed, a very practical man. He follows him wordlessly and starts preparing dinner immediately. Noctis sits in his chair, hugging his egg, and observes Ignis. Then he observes him with a wary gaze, and lastly adds a little more grumpy grudge to his staring when he sees vegetables being taken out of the fridge.

Ignis halts in his cooking, throws a glance over his shoulder at his disgruntled guest, knits his brows in confusion, but continues forming the leftover rice from their breakfast into rice balls. They are stuffed with other leftovers. Vegetable leftovers. The ones Noctis fears were meant for him to eat, according to the note he had received this morning. Noctis silently questions Prompto’s high praise for this man’s cooking skills, and interrupts his staring to give Prompto a judging look.

“Don’t look like that,” Prompto chuckles and starts watching Ignis as well, a fond shine in his blue eyes. “Rice balls are nice to chat over. I’m sure he’ll go all out on his cooking tomorrow. Heed my words, his food is worth dying for.” He turns back to Noctis and winks at him. “Even the rice balls with veggies.”

“Pardon my questioning, mayhaps you’re allergic?” Ignis worries. Prompto was right, he ought to talk more to the other if he wants to learn more about him. Maybe he didn’t eat his food today because he can’t out of health issues?

Noctis squints at Ignis and tells him, “Very.” Prompto smirks.

“My apologies. I did not consider…” Ignis frowns and turns to the ingredients. “Which ones? I’ll put them on a separate plate.”

Noctis gives a vague handwave at the offending greens in general. Prompto hides a snort behind his hand. Ignis looks utterly puzzled. Then Noctis just hides behind his egg and Prompto bursts into laughter.

“He just doesn’t like veggies,” he informs Ignis. He had placed them on the table with the omelette, but Noctis straight up had ignored their existence entirely.

“Doesn’t… doesn’t like vegetables?” Ignis asks, slowly looking back and forth between the two. He can’t wrap his head around this concept presented at him. “What the hell?” Ignis mutters under his breath.

Noctis can see it in those green eyes, the very moment it’s decided he’ll stay. It’s a mixture of unbelieving indignation and a silent ‘challenge accepted’ flaring to live in Ignis’ eyes. He can see it in Prompto’s posture–relaxing into a comfy slouch, fully content with how this evening turned from tense conversations to playful banter.

A sincere smile creeps onto Noctis’ lips. “I’m Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum, Prince of Lucis and rightful heir to the throne. Son of King Regis Lucis Caelum CXIII, King of Lucis.” He shows them a ring hanging on a chain around his neck, having rested safely tucked away beneath his shirt–a ring that looks suspiciously a lot like The Ring of Lucii.

“Didn’t know there are two,” is what comes out of Prompto’s mouth. He had not intended to answer Noctis’ honesty with stupidity. “Sorry,” he tacks on with a grimace.

Noctis huffs a chuckle. “Dad and I both wear a ring, but one is fake,” he explains and a sad bitterness clouds his expression. Prompto  _ really _ regrets his words now. “My dear uncle,” Noctis practically spits, “is not happy with my father on the throne, and is not happy with me being next to sit on it.”

He puts the ring back beneath his shirt and shrugs. “He can’t do much about it, though. Besides of being a petty son of a bitch. Has sent me on a ‘Trial of Worthiness’ or some bullshit like that. To prove I’m better suited to rule than him.”

Noctis grins, and his grin is turning more and more sinister with each passing second. He cradles his egg close, strokes its shiny, edged surface gently. “Just imagine that asshole’s face when he sees this baby all grown up and hissing right in his face.”

Prompto smiles wide at that and shakes his head, while Ignis just laughs. He laughs, and Noctis think it’s alright, if he stays here. It’ll be alright.


	4. Eggsploring

Noctis never liked to explore. He preferred his time spent in lazy circles, his every day life a routine of familiarity. Nothing exciting comes from a life spent like this, but Noctis always preferred the warm feeling of certainty and safety the well known brings with it over the thrilling feeling of something new. His journey didn’t change this, however, it changed his behaviour. Before something becomes familiar, everything is new. And new things need exploring to become familiar.

So here he is, still clad in his pajamas at noon–always carrying his egg, bundled into a blanket–exploring the small house and its surroundings while Ignis and Prompto have gone to work for the day.

He is already familiar with his room and the kitchen, so naturally he goes to peek into the other rooms of the house. Next to his own is some sort of library–or so he had thought at first. The wooden shelves reach high, not really  _ high _ considering the single-level house is rather low to begin with, but high enough to reach the ceiling. Nestled between the many bookshelves is an old desk with an uncomfy looking chair. The desk is organised and clean, so Noctis guesses this room must belong to Ignis.

There’s a single photograph framed and placed on the desk. It shows Ignis with another man, Noctis wonders if it might be his brother. They look alike, though where Ignis’ smile is reserved, the other’s is more on the goofy side. Noctis hums bemused.

The sunrays falling through the window behind the desk drape the library in a soft golden glow, illuminating dust hovering through the air. It smells like old paper, the scent of aging books tickles his nose and he decides to visit the garden he had only glanced at when Ignis first brought him here.

On his way, he takes a closer look at the living room located in the middle of the house, connecting the other rooms. A soft looking couch catches his eye, though after a second of sitting down Noctis discovers it’s never been properly used. Never been properly worn down to a comfortable pillowy softness. With good reason. It’s harder than the meadow’s ground he had slept on. He frowns and gets up to inspect another desk, on the opposite side. It’s cluttered with all kinds of photographs, so it must be Prompto’s workspace. It’s a nice spot, with the wide glass doors leading to the garden right next to it.

When Noctis steps outside, a mellow breeze rustles his hair. It smells like sun warmed earth and freshly mowed grass. Plain hills and a grove frame this little spot, hiding it yet giving a perfect view of the meadow lying in between. The garden itself isn’t big, but somehow still spacious enough to fit a rose bush, a birch tree, some flowerbeds with heather and lavender as well as a tiny herbary with rosemary, oregano and basil. There’s a very cosy looking lounger luring Noctis to try his luck again and sit down. He’s not disappointed–this time it’s actual downiness that’s welcoming him.

He hugs his egg close, lets his gaze wander over his surroundings once more, and yawns. It’s a warm and sunny spot on a slow afternoon, he feels content enough with himself and the world, and knows he won’t be alone when he wakes up. It’s a nice afternoon for a nap, Noctis thinks once again.

Ignis promised he will cook grilled wild barramundi tonight–after Noctis had mentioned his love for fish during breakfast this morning. Noctis is really looking forward to it, it’s been a while since someone bothered to cook his favourite dish for him.

It’s been a while since someone bothered at all. He doesn’t know whether to be sad about it, or simply happy that he found this little place to call home, with these people caring for him to call family. Noctis wonders, is it too soon to think in terms of ‘home’ and ‘family’? Noctis doesn’t know, and he’s too lazy to figure it out. It’s a nice afternoon for a nap, not for deep thoughts to mull over and life changing decisions to make. So he naps.

Afternoon turns into evening, the warm breeze turns into night’s fresh air. Clouds dot the sky, occasionally revealing stars and a late spring full moon. Noctis wakes to a soft chuckle and gentle fingers tousling his hair.

“Hey there Sleeping Beauty,” Prompto whispers cheerfully.

“Hrrmpf,” Noctis eloquently greets Prompto and burrows his face back into his egg’s blanket. Prompto laughs, but leaves him be.

When Noctis glances back at him, he sees Prompto taking pictures–of the lavender illuminated by the moon’s shy light, of the shadows dancing over the meadow–until Prompto looks back at him as well.

“Your eyes are like the sky,” he says when he comes back close to kneel next to Noctis again. “Sometimes a bright blue, sometimes as dark as the night,” he says with awe in his voice. “There’s moonlight and clouds in them right now… So pretty… Can’t capture that,” he mutters sheepishly and lowers his camera.

Prompto smiles at him, with soft lips gently turned up, eyes crinkled at the corner. Noctis thinks the crystal clear blue of Prompto’s eyes is way prettier than his own. He tells him so. It makes Prompto laugh and his cheeks darken with a blush.

“Let’s go inside, Iggy started on your fish already,” Prompto says and gets up, holds out a hand to help Noctis get up as well. Then he notices the egg in Noctis’ lap and laughs once more.

“Don’t laugh,” Noctis pouts. “I’m trying my best here.”

“I know, sorry. It’s just… I don’t know much about dragons. Do they really hatch just from hugging them all the time?” Prompto wants to know. Noctis shrugs helplessly. He doesn’t know much about dragons either.


	5. The Egg Hatches

It happens on a rainy morning. Ignis doesn’t have to go to work today, Prompto got a call from Nyx that he doesn’t have to work his shift either if the rain doesn’t let up–business is always slow on rainy days, no one wants to barbecue while being cold and wet. Noctis is still fast asleep–and maybe Prompto should have thought better than to take the stone. But alas, curiosity kills the cat, and Prompto guesses he’s a very dead cat now.

Prompto should have thought better than to take the stone, because that stone is Noctis’ dragon egg. The other never stopped treating it with delicate care, always carrying it with him, cushioned in warm blankets. He always sleeps with it, too. Usually, anyway. Prompto should have just laid the egg back next to Noctis when he had found it in the pile of dirty laundry next to the bed. He should have thought ‘Oh, it fell. Let’s put it back.’ Instead, Prompto had taken the egg with him, abandoning his task of doing laundry. He had sat down in a kitchen chair with the egg hugged close to his chest–the same way Noctis always does.

It starts with a faint rumbling. Ignis looks up from his notes, gives Prompto a questioning glance. If that was his stomach requesting more food for breakfast, Ignis is more than happy to oblige. Prompto frowns and stares down at the egg. Ignis frowns too, then, and stares at the egg as well.

Here is the thing–Ignis is a very practical man, still. He believes in magic, because he has seen it happen, has used it himself even. He does believe dragons might have existed at some point in time. He has never seen one, or seen proof of one, like a skeleton or remains of their scales or horns or claws. He has never heard of dragon eggs just lying around in someone’s backyard either. But then again, he has never heard of princes just lying in someone’s backyard, yet he is said someone with the prince in his backyard.

As the rumbling returns more clearly, Ignis might start to believe in dragon eggs just lying in his backyard as well. Maybe this stone isn’t just a stone after all. The panicked look in Prompto’s eyes tells him he came to the same shocking realisation that in hindsight shouldn’t have been  _ that _ surprising after all. Noctis had kept insisting it was a dragon egg. Maybe they should have thought better than thinking him a fool with no idea what he’s talking about. 

Maybe Prompto should have run to wake Noctis, but he just sits there and watch the egg’s first crack taking shape on its shiny surface. Maybe Ignis should have run to wake Noctis, but he crouches down next to Prompto and traces the crack with a finger.

It’s happening. The egg is hatching.


	6. Chapter 6

Noctis isn’t mad when Ignis finally wakes him up with a puzzled look on his face and incomprehensible mumbling falling from his lips. He isn’t mad when Prompto presents him the tiny dragon with unshed tears glistening in his eyes.

The dragon baby squawks at him. It’s rather pretty with its russet coloured scales, big amber eyes looking at the world for the first time, and wings so huge on its small body, they’re helplessly wobbling around without aim. It’s also really adorable. Noctis says so as he gently pats its head with a finger.

“You’re not angry?” Prompto whispers.

Noctis shakes his head. “Nah.” Then a smug grin spreads over his face and he looks up at Prompto. “They  _ do _ hatch from hugging!” Prompto huffs a laugh at that, relieved Noctis isn’t having his head for accidentally hatching his dragon.

But Ignis doesn’t laugh. Ignis goes very, very silent. Ignis goes slightly pale. Ignis gulps and slumps down in a kitchen chair. Right. Dragons don’t hatch from hugging them. He’s done his research–maybe out of curiosity, maybe out of pity for Noctis–he could have found some information that could have been useful, you know, for helping Noctis hatch an egg, in case it wasn’t just a stone.

“We need a name!” Prompto exclaims. Now that his fear and shock had worn off, his smile is wide and his eyes full of excitement. He can’t seem to hold still, he fidgets around and cuddles the dragon in his lap. Oh, how happy he is for Noctis–the egg really hatched!

“How about… uh…” Noctis frowns and ponders. “Ruby?”

“Dude. That’s kinda lame.”

It only had led him to folktales, rural legends and tavern talk. However, all of the tidbits of information Ignis had dug out in his search had agreed on that–no, dragons don’t hatch from merely being hugged day in, day out.

“Then what do you suggest?” Noctis asks and takes the dragon into his arms, not exactly cooing at it yet, but he’s just seconds away from doing so.

“Er… maybe… Deathbreath the Mighty!” Prompto suggests with his expression trying to mimic what sort of expression a Deathbreath the Mighty might wear when angered. Or when hungry. It looks rather comical on him. But admittedly, Prompto isn’t a Deathbreath the Mighty, so the naturality of the effect is kind of lost in the process.

“Deathbreath the Mighty?”

“Deathbreath the Mighty.”

Noctis shakes his head with a laugh. “Now that’s just ridiculous! Besides, what if it’s a girl? That’s not a nice name for a girl. Sounds like she’d have awful morning breath.” The dragon cuddles into his chest and yips a purr.

Sure, the constant hugging might have done its part, but it couldn’t have been the sole reason they now are graced with the presence of a tiny, scaly lizard baby with giant wings. It couldn’t be just that easy, no, of course not. Ignis heaves a big sigh and sets his glasses aside for a moment to drag his hands over his face. He’s taken on worse tasks, he thinks. He could do this. He’s Ignis, after all. It’s just a baby. A dragon baby. For now, at least. Legends say it will grow fast.

“Did it just purr?” Prompto whispers in awe and leans closer to the dragon climbing around in Noctis’ hold.

“I think so…” Noctis whispers back, turning slightly so Prompto could take the little wanderer off where it has clambered up on Noctis’ shoulder and head.

Ignis looks up and watches them bicker about a name. He hasn’t seen the horrors that are haunting Noctis during the night, but he’s caught him in the kitchen for a glass of water often enough. He’s seen him dissociating often enough to know it’s not just spacing out. He doesn’t have to know what their prince has been through to appreciate when he’s smiling lightheartedly like does now. He  _ has _ seen the horrors that Prompto has been through. He’s been taking care of him for some time, has been taking care of Noctis as best he can as well. What’s one more?

“Gladiolus,” Ignis says while watching the dragon chew on Prompto’s finger. “It stands for honor and faithfulness, among other things. The flower’s petals can be red, as well.”

Noctis nods enthusiastically and Prompto says, “That’s it! That’s one damn good name!” They wear mirroring grins of mirth. Seems like they’re content with this name.

“Can I…?” Ignis asks and Prompto happily hands Gladiolus over. It mews at him. Ignis mews back and scratches its head. Then Gladiolus continues its climbing career and goes to conquer Ignis’ head.

Dragons only hatch if they found a pack–or soulmates, depending on the information source–capable of looking after them. Really. He’s faced worse tasks than caring for loved ones. Even if that now includes a little dragon baby that, for whatever reason, had deemed  _ them _ fit for the job.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading ( ´ ◡ ` )


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